In his essay “Gods in Exile”, Kanak Mani Dixit examines ideas of cultural ownership and heritage conservation within the context of stolen Nepali cultural and religious artifacts. Since the 1960s, thousands of artifacts have been illegally removed from their sites of veneration in Kathmandu valley and scattered to museums across the globe. Now displayed in stark glass cases within galleries, these objects have been removed from their active relationships with Nepali people and placed into passive relationships with museum goers. These displaced objects are not only crucial to Nepal’s archaeological history but were once a part of a living and ever changing culture. Dixit writes that “There can be no questioning the suggestion that religious art which received tika and flower offerings till the day of plunder should be returned with an even deeper sense of urgency than archaeological loot” (Dixit). For decades the empty pedestals on which the stolen items once stood have continued to receive tika and other offerings from Nepali devotees.
These dynamics of illegal trade and cultural theft began to take shape throughout the 1950s as Nepal first opened its borders to the rest of the world. Many Western art collectors soon descended upon the valley with intent to observe, and often to illegally take possession of, iconographic sculptures dating back to the fifth century. By the 1970s, theft of small rituary objects shifted to larger scale endeavors. For the following number of decades, a global desire for stone religious statuary drove an illegal market of trade between Nepali smugglers and art collectors throughout the Western world.
Dixit then goes on to discuss the following question: Who is the culprit of this crime? The answer is indisputable. The culprits are not the impoverished Nepalis forced into the smuggling of cultural artifacts out of economic necessity. Rather, it is the wealthy Western art collector’s whose demands for rare art continuously drive an unethical and illegal market. Although there has been insufficient political leadership within Nepal for the purpose of raising awareness about these issues and pursuing repatriation, individual parties, committed Nepali activists (i.e Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign), and independent organizations (i.e UNESCO Division of Cultural Heritage) have and will continue to work to bring every exiled god and goddess back to their home in Kathmandu valley (Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign).
After reading Kanak Mani Dixit’s essay, I began to think back to our first lecture with Anilji in Patan Durbar Square. As he led us through the ancient buildings and described the processes of rebuilding their detailed structures following the 2015 earthquake, he said something that deeply stuck with me. He explained that Nepal does not have the same need for museums and curated preservation that so many other countries do. Sacred objects and buildings in Nepal are examples of living culture– rather than being considered relics of the past they are representations of current sociocultural life and are treated as such.
If the facade of a temple is damaged in a natural disaster, it is not collected and stored behind glass as a tribute to what once was. Rather it is restored down to the most minute detail and placed back within its original context. Nepal has this capability because of its extraordinary efforts to preserve and actively implement traditional artistic practices. Contrasting the Western approach to the preservation of material culture, Nepal places emphasis on the importance of skilled craftsmen who have the knowledge to build and rebuild the physical manifestations of Nepal’s cultural heritage. In this way, contemporary artifacts both represent the traditions of the past and the lived experiences of the present.
During my spring break I decided to visit the Music Museum of Nepal, both for personal academic interests and for the purpose of further exploring the ideas raised by both Kanak Mani Dixit and Anilji. Ram Prasad Kadel founded this museum for the preservation of Nepali folk music traditions in 1997. By 2002, Ram’s collection had become the largest and most comprehensive in Nepal housing more than 250 distinct types of instruments. Driven by his desire to make Nepali folk music accessible to all and to prevent the decline of traditional practices, Ram then decided to open the museum to public access. In a conversation with Ram following a short tour of the collections, we talked more deeply about his personal investment in Nepali folk music and material culture.
When Ram was a young child, both his parents worked tirelessly to provide for his family. He explained that one of the strongest influences in his childhood was his grandmother. Ram was never a singer or a musician, but he learned to cherish the folk songs that his grandmother would play for him during the days while his parents were away. The songs created a special bond between the two and shaped the memories that he cherishes to this day. His desire to start a folk instrument museum grew out of the necessity to not only preserve physical instruments but to preserve the practices that have constituted numerous meaningful intergenerational relationships throughout Nepal. As Ram has traveled throughout Nepal collecting traditional instruments he has established a unique method of curation without direct cultural loss. Whenever possible, he employs regional instrument makers to make a replica of the desired instrument rather than severing it from its active relationship within the community. In this way, Ram recognizes the importance of living culture and prioritizes education and the preservation of tradition rather than the preservation of an artifact itself.
Following my visit to the Music Museum of Nepal, I began to think more deeply about the relationship between Nepali people and the museums in Kathmandu. In a conversation with Bibiji, we spoke about the theme of cultural conservation in connection with Kanak Mani Dixit’s essay. He presented his thoughts on the process of reintegrating repatriated items in response to the following question: “Are there any circumstances where a sacred object or artifact should be kept in a museum rather than returned to its original context”? He explained that all repatriated objects should be returned to their original context in Nepali communities with increased awareness for their safekeeping and cultural significance. Rather than expending resources and money on their surveillance in museums, it is necessary to reallocate these resources to ensure the safety of these items while preserving the sacred nature of their relationships with Nepali people. Dixit shares this sentiment: “Numerous statues all over Kathmandu Valley can be found today protected behind iron bars, locked in steel casings, or fixed to unsightly cement. But better this than in a museum in the West” (Dixit).
I additionally gained perspective on the educational and social contexts for museums in Kathmandu. He explained that Nepali history, art, and cultural museums can be an effective educational tool for younger generations but are not made accessible to all. Although some schools (majority private) incorporate museum trips into their curriculums, many do not have the economic capacity to expose their students to such cultural touchstones. He explained that courses of study dedicated to Nepali history are not of interest or are not made accessible to many current students. Because careers in history are not considered to be economically viable, there is concern that younger generations lack the incentive and the resources to pursue the preservation of cultural objects and practices. For this reason, there is a strong need for innovative approaches to the conservation of Nepal’s living culture.
Interested in exploring the younger generation’s perspective on these complex ideas, I had a conversation with my baai and bahini (younger host siblings) about their personal experiences with museums. Both shared that they had been to one museum, National Museum of Nepal, in grade three. The trip had been scheduled to accompany their compulsory Nepali history course. They explained that the museum’s exhibits served as a great tool for more deeply understanding of ideas that had been taught in the classroom. On the field trip, they recalled enjoying exhibitions of Nepali traditional clothing, weaponry, and other artifacts that provided important historical context for their courses. Additionally, I was happy to learn that all museums offer an entrance discount for Nepali students– although this does not solve the issue of accessibility, it increases community engagement and encourages Nepali youth to engage in the complexities of historical and cultural conservation.
These complexities can be further examined in the case of Itumbahā Buddhist monastery. As I concluded my interviews, I was compelled to learn more about current instances of repatriation in Nepal’s ongoing fight for the reintegration of material culture. In the article “Itumbahā’s Living Museum” published by the Nepali Times, Sahina Shrestha explains that the Rubin Museum of Art in New York returned two artifacts to Nepal in 2022 that had been stolen from religious sites in Kathmandu. Following the repatriation, the museum donated $20,000 to the Itumbahā Conservation Society for the installation of a gallery space to display the religious objects.
This act of good will sparked a range of contrasting opinions from community members reckoning with the reintegration of their sacred objects. Yagyaman Pati Bajracharya, a conservationist and Buddhist priest stated that the gallery would “help the younger generation, educators, and researchers from all over the world learn about our culture and heritage” (Nepali Times). In contrast, local resident Jyoti Ratna Shakya shared the opinion that “Itumbaha itself is a living museum…Having a museum there is counterintuitive. Itumbaha was built by our ancestors, why involve anyone else?” (Nepali Times).
Within these personal sentiments, contrasting perspectives on the practices of Western-style museums can be seen. On the one hand, these curation techniques ensure the safety of material culture for the purposes of education and the conservation of knowledge. On the other, they stagnate living and breathing traditions and implicate current culture as past history. As Nepali artifacts continue to be repatriated from abroad, communities will have to reckon with these complex and urgent questions.
As I reflect on the complicated issues that my research brought to light, I am continuously inspired by Nepal’s approach to the conservation of living culture. This approach prioritizes the preservation and active implementation of traditional artistic practices. Emphasis is placed on the importance of skilled craftsmen who are capable of rebuilding the physical manifestations of Nepal’s cultural heritage. This detachment from material culture is a striking concept that alters the way a community thinks about its history, culture, and traditions. In the context of the United States, rather than invest resources into the conservation of physical objects, I think that we must redistribute these resources for the purpose of increasing educational opportunities and cultivating a more active relationship between people and the many facets of their environments.
Sources
Dixit, Kanak Mani. “Gods in Exile.” 2020, KanakManiDixit.com:
Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign. “Gallery.” Nepal Heritage Recovery Campaign: https://nepalheritagerecoverycampaign.org/gallery/
Nepali Times. “Itumbahā’s Living Museum.” 2023, Nepali Times: https://nepalitimes.com/news/itumbahas-living-museum
